 Well, we must have traveled every side street in Cairo to shake the police. Finally, the truck roared across the Bulak Bridge of the Nile, through Giza, on west and north above the Nile Valley as it meets the desert. As the truck picked up speed, the men relaxed their grip on me, peering ahead to the onrushing road. So I had a chance to look them over. Well, the top man had called it to a rescue, but I knew better. Every one of them was wearing German field boots and carrying a Luger.